Chương 156: Lying in Wait

With the relentless march of time, Kushina's physical vessel had long since made a full recovery; the legendary constitution of the Uzumaki clan defied comparison with ordinary mortals. Had she not endured the dual trauma of childbirth followed immediately by the violent extraction of the Nine-Tails, she would never have suffered such a prolonged period of infirmity. Minato Namikaze spent his daylight hours mastering senjutsu upon Mount Myoboku before returning home at dusk.

The family rarely ventured beyond the perimeter of Konoha without cause, and given the couple's unparalleled martial prowess, they required minimal protection. Consequently, the Sovereign Guard under Zhen Dongye and Kakashi's squad spent their hours outside of routine shifts executing black ops. Certain delicate geopolitical matters could not brook the deployment of standard shinobi detachments, demanding instead the silent, unseen scalpel of the Anbu.

Within the dense canopy stretching from Konoha toward the Land of Hot Water, four silhouettes blurred through the branches with rhythmic celerity. After a time, Zhen Dongye, leading the vanguard, raised a hand to signal his companions.

"We halt here for a brief respite. Our operational timeline allows for a measured pace; there is no utility in depleting our reserves." Hayate Gekko, Yugao Uzuki, and Yamato converged on his position, dropping to the forest floor to recuperate. Shielded by Zhen's peerless sensory net, the threat of an ambush was effectively nullified, allowing them a rare moment of ease.

As commander of the Sovereign Guard, Zhen typically rotated his field personnel between this trio and Genma's squad depending on availability, ensuring every subordinate received ample operational exposure. Yugao relished the freedom of field deployments but harbored a deep-seated aversion to warfare.

"I believed the global conflict had finally drawn to a close, yet the atmosphere feels suffocating once more. Commander, do you truly believe the flames of war will reignite?"

"Minor friction is inevitable," Zhen countered smoothly, "but a grand-scale war remains highly improbable. The major hidden villages are bleeding from their recent exertions; they require years to rebuild their infrastructure and replenish their ranks."

"That is a mercy, then," Yugao murmured. Hayate, however, offered a more cynical appraisal.

"Cough, cough... It is difficult to say for certain. Intelligence suggests the lunatics in Kirigakure are growing restless again."

"Yet they refrain from a direct, massive incursions, do they not?" Zhen noted.

"They confine their machinations to the peninsula of the Land of Eddies. At their core, they remain averse to being dragged back into an open furnace." As Zhen spoke, his sensory awareness subtly audited Hayate's internal condition. Though the young man's martial progression far outstripped his original trajectory, his physiological afflictions were steadily worsening. While Hayate possessed the discipline to suppress the symptoms during active duty, his coughing fits grew increasingly frequent during downtime.

A genetic inheritance from his mother had left him with a congenital pulmonary defect. The Konoha Hospital could offer nothing beyond palliative pharmacology; a definitive cure remained elusive, and Zhen currently lacked the medical-ninjutsu architecture to eradicate the flaw. The restlessness Hayate mentioned within the Mist was a documented reality.

The systemic vulnerabilities exposed by the Nine-Tails crisis had emboldened Konoha's rivals; though terrified of initiating a full-scale invasion, they tested the borders of the Land of Fire with predatory persistence. Kumogakure was actively attempting to coax the Land of Hot Water into their geopolitical orbit.

Meanwhile, the peninsula of the Land of Eddies lacked a sovereign Daimyo; the Uzumaki clan had reigned supreme until the total annihilation of Uzushiogakure, after which the territory fell under the administrative jurisdiction of the Land of Fire. Recently, however, a rogue faction had emerged, proclaiming themselves descendants of the Uzumaki lineage in a bid to declare independence under that historical banner. They lack even a single strand of crimson hair, yet possess the audacity to claim the Uzumaki name?

Konoha's counter-intelligence quickly unmasked Kirigakure as the hidden hand orchestrating the theater. The Lord Third had directly assigned the pacification of the peninsula to the Uchiha clan—a tactical maneuver to occupy their martial energies and alleviate their simmering resentment after being evicted from Konoha's central administrative district. It was a classic demonstration of the carrot and the stick.

To a clan of natural-born combatants, a deployment to the battlefield was the ultimate carrot; their psychological architecture operated on a completely alien wavelength compared to ordinary men. Yamato had gradually acclimated to the dynamics of the squad. Unlike the absolute, suffocating silence maintained by Root operatives during deployments, the Anbu environment was remarkably unburdened; stripped of their porcelain masks and standardized uniforms, they resembled an ordinary shinobi cell.

Yet, their professional discipline remained ironclad; their casual dialogue never breached the perimeter of classified intelligence. Driven by curiosity, Yamato inquired, "You all participated in the previous global conflict, did you not? How does it differ from standard missions?"

"It is infinitely more savage," Yugao replied softly.

"Death is a ubiquitous presence. Every shinobi who lacks a Leaf headband is an adversary to be liquidated on sight. In short, it is a harrowing experience."

"I see," Yamato murmured. He had been nurtured by Danzo as a prized asset, an ultimate secret weapon, only to encounter a paramount entity the moment he crossed the threshold of his training grounds, serving as nothing more than a stepping stone to be effortlessly harvested. Yet, from his current perspective, that defeat was an unadulterated blessing. Moments later, Zhen commanded, "Respite concluded. Resume the march."

Regardless of whether a global conflagration would erupt anew, Konoha systematically fortified its various frontiers, including the borders adjacent to their nominal allies in Sunagakure. However, the bulk of their military assets converged on the southeastern and northern theaters. After all, Kumogakure and Kirigakure remained the most volatile provocateurs; neither had ratified a formal peace treaty with the Leaf, meaning their respective wars had never technically concluded.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. By dusk, Zhen's vanguard breached the frontier of the Land of Hot Water. Following a rigorous authentication protocol, they entered the fortified garrison deployed by the Leaf. The commanding officer overseeing the outpost was an old acquaintance of Zhen's—Suzaku Nara. The veteran Jonin instantly discerned the identities of the three core operatives through subtle behavioral markers but maintained a disciplined silence.

He understood the sacrosanct protocols of the Black Ops.

"Commander Suzaku, Anbu Team Strix reports for reinforcement," Zhen initiated, adapting his persona to his codename.

"I am Captain Strix. Please brief us on the current operational parameters."

"Very well," Suzaku complied.

"The Daimyo of Hot Water stands at the precipice of death. By law, the throne should ascend to his eldest son, whose administration maintains a favorable posture toward Konoha. Recently, however, the Daimyo's second son has secured external backing. He has grown aggressively proactive, launching targeted assassinations against his elder brother and the loyalist ministers in a bid to usurp the succession."

"The external backing—I presume it originates from Kumogakure?" Zhen surmised.

"Undoubtedly. However, because the shinobi caste is diplomatically barred from overtly interfering in the succession of a sovereign Daimyo, neither our forces nor the Cloud can deploy large-scale vanguards into the capital. Previously, at the behest of the Crown Prince, we dispatched scouts to investigate the incursions. Our assets were either liquidated or lost the trail entirely, prompting our request for specialized Anbu intervention."

"To summarize: our objective is to isolate the perpetrators supporting the second prince and eliminate them?"

"Correct. Furthermore, if the opportunity presents itself, gather actionable intelligence on the Cloud operatives so our strategists can divine the underlying intent behind their mobilization."

"Understood." Securing the dossier from Suzaku, the four operatives vanished into the night, pressing toward the capital of the Land of Hot Water. The rural expanses of this world remained primitive, contrasting sharply with the opulent prosperity of its urban centers—a stark societal dichotomy. Yet, the capital, typically a sprawling oasis of neon illumination and vibrant nightlife, was cast in shadow, its streets barren of civilian traffic as though the populace were evading a pestilence.

Infiltrating the perimeter undetected, Zhen's team slipped into a local hot spring inn. Upon exchanging the designated countersigns, the proprietor escorted them into a concealed chamber deep within the establishment. While the innkeeper maintained the public persona of a native citizen, he operated as a deep-cover asset cultivated by the Konoha Anbu, an intelligence node reserved exclusively for Black Ops deployment.

Such arrangements were standard practice across the geopolitical landscape, mirrored by every major intelligence apparatus. In all probability, Root maintained its own independent network within the city limits, though its coordinates remained obscured; Danzo's operational doctrine strictly dictated that his personal intelligence assets remain entirely decoupled from the Hokage's Anbu. It underscored Hiruzen Sarutobi's profound indulgence of the man, permitting a schism that compromised state intelligence.

Facing the informant, Zhen questioned directly, "What is the catalyst for this atmosphere? The citizenry cower within their estates as though evading a cataclysm." The proprietor was a fair-skinned, portly middle-aged man who bore the hallmarks of a mundane civilian; indeed, his body lacked any trace of refined chakra. He offered a deferential smile.

"Honored shinobi, an unidentified cadre of ninja has plagued the city streets under the cover of darkness. Though their primary targets are the state ministers and nobility, any civilian unfortunate enough to cross their path is systematically silenced. In such a climate, who would dare venture out? It has utterly paralyzed our commerce."

"Elaborate on your intelligence."

"The underlying truth is an open secret within the capital; it requires no great leap of logic to deduce the second prince's hand in this. He intends to coerce the loyalist factions into shifting their allegiance to his banner. However, actionable proof remains non-existent. No soul knows where these phantom executioners roost, nor can we divine the duration of this terror, which feeds the pervasive panic." His data aligned precisely with Suzaku's briefing.

Zhen's immediate objective was clear: unearth the killers' lair and liquidate them. Yet, sensory techniques were not omnipotent, nor was the Byakugan; had the solution been so elementary, the capital would not have descended into systemic terror.

"Do their incursions follow a discernible pattern?"

"None. However, their strikes are frequent. Should they fail to manifest tonight, the probability of an operation tomorrow evening is exceptionally high."

"Understood." Though the capital was expansive, navigating it posed no challenge to Zhen. Yet, an exhaustive sensory sweep of the perimeter yielded nothing. Ordinary barriers could not impede his perception; this implied the adversary was either utilizing a highly sophisticated cloaking array, entrenched deep beneath the subterranean strata, or operating from outside the city limits.

Zhen declined to waste energy hunting for a needle in a haystack beyond the walls; since the enemy was bound to strike again, they would simply lie in wait within the city. Shinobi, after all, possessed patience in boundless abundance. The eastern district of the capital boasted a low architectural density, devoid of modern vertical structures; instead, it was a tapestry of ancient, expansive estates that housed the nation's ministers and aristocracy.

Securing an abandoned chamber within the proximity of the Daimyo's palace compound, Zhen established a concealed staging post for his squad, waiting for the prey to walk into their trap. Because the assassinations targeted the high officials, they had no need to actively sustain an intensive sensory sweep; any outbreak of hostilities would instantly herald itself.

Following the initial wave of killings, the ministers had reinforced their personal security with native shinobi; any subsequent engagement would inevitably generate significant commotion. To pass the hours, Yugao whispered, "The eldest son of the Daimyo is the second prince's flesh and blood, is he not? Does he truly intend to execute his own brother?"

Though her martial competencies were formidable, her youth left her ill-equipped to comprehend the cold calculus of dynastic betrayal, especially given her deep-seated valuation of familial bonds.

"They are likely merely half-brothers," Hayate noted.

"Historical texts indicate that a Daimyo's household rarely comprises a solitary consort."

"What?" Yugao blinked.

"Is a man not restricted to a single spouse?"

"Hardly," Hayate corrected.

"Monogamy is merely a conventional social construct among the populace. In truth, to this day, statutory law across the various nations imposes no such restriction. To secure their dynastic lineages, the Daimyos, aristocracy, and even affluent merchants routinely take multiple wives." Yamato remained silent. An earnest soul, he merely deduced that any man saddled with such a plurality of spouses must suffer from terminal physical exhaustion. Women are truly terrifying creatures.

Yugao stole a fleeting glance at Zhen, a quiet sense of relief washing over her. Thank goodness we are shinobi; our caste harbors no such exhausting traditions.

"Even if they share separate mothers, he remains his elder brother," Yugao persisted.

"Does the mantle of the Daimyo truly eclipse the sanctity of a brother?"

"Naturally," Zhen explained smoothly.

"The sovereign seat grants absolute dominion over an entire nation. In the presence of such monumental authority, familial sentiment is the first currency to be discarded." Such was the absolute reality of dynastic succession. These aristocrats, after all, did not belong to the Uchiha—that legendary clan of boundless love, whose members were invariably consumed by absolute sibling-complexes.